


The Wristband Porn

by thegrrrl2002



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-26
Updated: 2010-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-09 04:19:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegrrrl2002/pseuds/thegrrrl2002
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John, Rodney, and that wristband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wristband Porn

**Author's Note:**

> Yin started it. She's utterly shameless that way. Not to mention an awful lot of fun, too.

## by Yin and The Grrrl

"Leave it on," Rodney says, and John flushes bright red while his fingers brush against the worn black wristband.

"Really?" he says. He smiles a little as he notices Rodney watching his fingers move against the skin-warmed cotton.

"Uh, yeah?" Rodney sounds unsure, and it helps John get his blush under control.

"You like it, huh?" John tucks two fingers under the band and lets them rub back and forth across the inside of his wrist, just to watch Rodney's wide eyes track the motion.

"Yes, maybe, it's, uh--" Rodney takes John's hand in his, raises it and looks at the underside of John's wrist, as if it's something he needs to figure out.

The back of John's hand is cradled in Rodney's and Rodney's fingertips are pressing into John's palm. John is about to tug his hand away because this is almost embarrassingly intimate, they're holding hands for god's sake, can't they just stick to blowjobs?

Rodney leans down and rubs his cheek against the soft cotton. Warm breath on John's wrist, then Rodney pulls the band aside with a finger and presses his lips to John's skin.

"Rodney," John says, and it comes out as a breathy little gasp.

Rodney's voice is a little muffled, because he's still kissing that spot on the inside of John's wrist. "I look at it."

John sucks in a breath. "Offworld?"

Rodney lifts his head, but he keeps his thumb at John's wrist. John wonders if Rodney can feel his pulse thundering.

"All the time," Rodney says.

There's something in Rodney's voice that makes John's breath catch. He slips his hand free to touch Rodney's cheek, sliding his fingers into Rodney's hair and rubbing the wristband against the side of Rodney's face. Rodney's lips part in a small "oh" and John drags his hand down so the wristband is pressed against them.

Rodney's eyes fall shut as he mouths the cotton. "I think about--I think about you touching me."

"I am," John says. "I am touching you." He shivers when Rodney moves to a spot just below the wristband and nips at the fragile skin there.

John brings his free hand up to tangle in the short, soft hair at the back of Rodney's neck. He rubs the nape for a moment, then tightens his fingers and tips Rodney's head back, staring down into eyes that have gone dark blue.

"Where do you want me to touch you, Rodney?"

"Yes," Rodney says.

"Rodney, that's not an answer," John tells him, but Rodney's kind of gone, eyes unfocused and he only murmurs "yes" again. John caresses Rodney's cheek, cotton catching on whisker stubble then he slides it down along Rodney's neck. Rodney gasps in delight.

"You want me to keep going?" John asks, even thought the answer is obvious. It's fascinating to see Rodney like this, lust-addled and compliant and okay, yes, maybe it's a bit of a rush, too and John not sure who's more turned on, him or Rodney.

A quick nod. "Everywhere," Rodney whispers.

John grasps the collar of Rodney's tee-shirt and tugs. Rodney scrambles to pull the shirt off over his head.

John slides his hand - and the wrist band - over the curve of Rodney's jaw. It rasps against more stubble until it reaches the curve where Rodney's neck and shoulder meet. John rubs back and forth hard enough to redden the skin a little.

Rodney groans out loud.

This is going to be fun.

John curls his hand around and glides the top of his wrist across Rodney's collarbone, and even though his wrist band is just barely touching the skin, Rodney draws in a sharp breath. He watches, tracking the movement of John's hand, twisting his neck as far he can to see when John glides it up and over one shoulder.

Rodney's shoulders are broad and solid; John can still remember his surprise when he first saw Rodney naked, as if all that width had somehow been hidden under his shirt.

That expanse of pale skin only serves to give him more to play with, and he leans in. He strokes the wristband across the top of Rodney's shoulder, then follows it with his rough cheek. When he follows that same line with his dry lips, Rodney's skin pebbles and he groans out loud.

John whispers in his ear, knowing that his breath is teasing at the lobe. "I like this, too. I like seeing you like this."

"John," Rodney says, and he's pleading now.

John runs his tongue along the edge of Rodney's ear, then pulls back to drag a finger down the center of Rodney's chest. Rodney's need is apparent, in the bulge of his erection and the flush creeping up his chest. John touches one small pink nipple, teasing it with a fingertip.

"Yes." Rodney closes his eyes and pushes his chest forward.

John curls his hand around and rubs the wristband over it in a small circle.

Rodney's eyes fly open. "Oh."

John smiles down at him. He moves his hand so that the backs of his fingers trail against Rodney's chest, never breaking the contact between Rodney's nipple and the sweatband, still circling. He wraps his free hand around the back of Rodney's neck and pulls him into a kiss.

Rodney kisses like he'll never get enough, like he's thanking John for the touches, even though they're freely given. John bites Rodney's lower lip as he pulls away, then moves back to take it all in - Rodney's bottom lip, red and shiny; Rodney's eyes, pupils so blown there's almost no blue left. He raises his wrist to look at Rodney's nipple and soothes the raw, red skin with his mouth.

"More," Rodney says.

"Down to one word at a time?" John asks, pressing his nose into Rodney's skin. "That's not like you."

When John raises his head Rodney is frowning at him in a bewildered kind of way and John wants to kiss him again but instead he holds up his right hand. "See this?" he says, pointing at the wristband.

Rodney nods.

"Watch it carefully."

And Rodney does, his eyes tracking it as John slowly reaches down, brushing his knuckles down Rodney's chest and over the curve of his belly, right down to the waistband of Rodney's pants.

John unfastens a button.

Rodney sucks in a breath and John grins. He reaches for the zipper with his right hand, sliding it down slowly, almost tooth-by-tooth. He glances up to check, but Rodney's neck is craned so he can see the band, dark against the pale skin of his lower abdomen.

John lifts his hand a rubs his wrist from just below Rodney's navel down to the V of white skin and brown curls framed by the cotton of his trousers.

"Commando?" John says with a raised eyebrow. "For me?"

Rodney breathes quickly in and out. "Yes."

"Nice," John says, his mouth going dry. He thinks he might be down to single words, too. He touches the curls, then pushes his fingers in further, down past the zipper until he finds the base of Rodney's cock, rock-hard and hot to the touch.

Circling his fingers around it, John pushes Rodney's pants away with his free hand. Rodney helps, so eagerly that John would laugh if he had any breath left in his lungs.

And then Rodney's pants are in a crumpled heap around his ankles.

"Kick 'em off," John says, a little surprised that he's able to say three whole words with Rodney spread out under him.

Rodney kicks the pants away.

John quickly slips his hand between Rodney's legs and drags the wristband over the soft skin of Rodney's balls.

"God!" Rodney says, moving them back to single words again.

Rodney spreads his legs and his hands ball up into fists. His cock lies hard and heavy on his stomach, so John strokes the wristband along the underside of it, then presses it to the drop of moisture gathering at the tip.

Rodney whimpers and moves his hips, seeking more contact, but John lifts his hand away just so he can look at it. Rodney has a fantastic cock; it's straight and thick, with the head shaped just right. He glances up to make sure Rodney's paying attention--and Rodney is, he is very much so, head lifted, eyes wide and desperate.

John grins. He raises his hand, eases a finger under the wristband and slowly, very slowly pulls it off over his hand, making a show of it.

Rodney looks panic-stricken. "What--"

John slides the band over Rodney's cock. Holding the cock steady in his hand, he loops it around twice, so that it's wrapped snugly around the shaft.

Rodney's eyes go wide as he stares down his cock with the black band around it.

John can't hold his grin back. He doesn't know how this turned into what it is. He knew Rodney loved the wristband, but he's not sure how they got from "nice wristband" to using it as a makeshift cockring. However, he doesn't care much either.

He slips down between Rodney's legs and eases his mouth down Rodney's cock, letting his tongue wet the way. He goes all the way down until his lips touch the black cotton, and Rodney's hands come up to grip his shoulders.

"Oh god," Rodney says, "that looks--" He moans again, low and breathy.

John sucks hard, then wraps his finger around the black band. He pulls back and runs his tongue over the head of Rodney's cock. He finds he can move the band a little and uses it to rub Rodney's cock, jerking him off as he licks and teases the head and he knows he's never going to wash it again, he's going to wear it all the time and off world and in meetings and he's going to be able to smell Rodney's cock on it--

John moans and sucks hard, grinding his own cock into the mattress.

Rodney makes the strangled noise that means he's close, and John pulls off and swiftly jerks the wristband down to the base of Rodney's cock and uses the finger inside to twist the band tight.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. John." Rodney's coming apart. His voice is high and crackling, his hands clench on the muscles of John's shoulders, and his hips stutter upward, reaching for something John won't give him. Not yet.

John inclines his head and gives the inside of Rodney's thigh a quick bite, twisting the wristband even tighter when Rodney gasps.

"Not yet," John whispers. "Not yet. Wait."

With a noise like a sob Rodney falls back onto the bed. His breathing is ragged and John waits for a moment, then presses a kiss to Rodney's balls which are wrinkled up tight, mirroring Rodney's desperation.

"John." Rodney digs his feet into the mattress.

"Yeah?" John grins against Rodney's thigh, even though he's feeling almost as desperate as Rodney.

"Please?"

"Soon." He loosens the band.

He looks up, and Rodney's eyes are squeezed shut, his jaw clenched. It makes John swallow hard to see that Rodney's trying so damn hard to do as John's asked. When he reaches to the bed table, a shudder goes all the way through Rodney's body.

"Just wait for me, Rodney," John says, his voice rough. "I want to be in you when you come."

Rodney doesn't open his eyes when he grits out, "You might need to tighten it again."

"Think unsexy thoughts," John says, flipping the cap off the lube.

Rodney shakes his head and sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly. After a second breath Rodney seems calmer so John risks letting go of the wristband and pulls himself up on his knees, hurrying with unsteady hands to get his to get his pants down. He knows how hot and sweet Rodney's ass is going to feel, how Rodney is going to squeeze and shake all around him and he wants to see that awestruck look on Rodney's face when he pushes in, he needs to see it right now.

John frees his cock and slides a handful of lube over it. He doesn't bother to take his pants off; he just leaves them bunched around his knees as he crawls forward and slips his hands under Rodney's knees.

Rodney promptly slides down and shoves his ass into John's lap, expression something like relief as he hooks a leg over John's shoulder. "Come on, come on, no fingers, just you--"

John has to catch his breath at that. He's going to have enough of a hard time not going off like a shot at just being in Rodney, but to press in with no prep - to push his cock into Rodney's ass when it's so tight - he doesn't even know if he'll make it all the way in.

"Come on," Rodney says - his face flushed.

"I'm trying," John says roughly. "I'm trying to hold on, here."

"Oh, no," Rodney says, breathless. "I waited for you, you can wait for me."

Even as Rodney speaks he's squirming in John's lap, ass pushing against John's cock. "Just hold still," John growls, grabbing Rodney's hip.

Rodney huffs, then pulls his knees to his chest. "Do it."

John stares. Rodney's laid bare, exposed and needy and there's no way he's going to be able to do this but he pours lube into his palm and rubs it over Rodney's opening, hot skin against his hand and Rodney gasps. "Okay," John says, more to himself than Rodney. "Okay."

John presses his cock against Rodney's tight, tight hole and Rodney wriggles and moans and then John's slipping inside. So tight around the head and John can't help it, his hips jerk and he thrusts in, too fast, too fast, he's going to hurt Rodney but Rodney simply moans and lets out a deep, throaty "Oh, yes."

"Jesus fucking Christ," John says through clenched teeth. Rodney's hot and tight and shaking all over with his need, and it takes every bit of will in John's body to hold on, to not come, not yet.

He snaps his hips forward and Rodney's breath hitches. He pulls back and Rodney groans. At that low sound, John has to grab the base of his cock and squeeze hard. He wasn't kidding - he wants to be in Rodney when he comes - wants to feel Rodney's ass clenching around him as Rodney's come slicks their bellies.

"Come on," Rodney says. "So close. Come on, John. Please.

"Gimma a minute here." John squeezes Rodney's thigh, trying to distract him but Rodney shifts restlessly and whines and John groans but he loves it, loves the way Rodney is coming undone, loves being one the who does it for him.

"Please, John." Rodney's voice is a bare whisper and he reaches for his cock, but instead of stroking it, he brushes his fingertips over the wristband. "Oh.".

As if it's the most amazing thing in the world.

John pushes in and Rodney's fingers tighten around his cock, gripping the wristband.

"Do it, Rodney, come on."

John looks down to see that Rodney has folded his fingers over the wristband and is using it to jerk himself off. The sight alone is nearly enough to make him come. He wants to wait for Rodney. Desperately wants to, so he strokes in and out as hard as he can.

John is still looking down between them when Rodney pulls the wristband up to just under the head of his cock and comes with a strangled moan. It looks fantastic, come spattering Rodney's chest, and it feels even better, muscles squeezing down on John's cock and John just goes for it, pounding in hard and fast while Rodney shudders and makes all kinds of noise. John hangs his head, works his hips, and then he's there, thank god, shoving into Rodney as the pleasure surges through him again and again.

When John finally comes back down he's gasping for breath and sweat is dripping into his eyes and he feels more than a little stunned. It's a feeling that's mirrored in Rodney's face as he lays flat on the bed panting, arms flung wide.

"Okay," Rodney says in a weak voice. "That was fun."

John huffs out a breathless laugh. "Wristband, huh?"

Rodney flushes a little and looks down. He slides the band off his cock and looks at it. John can see the drops of come beading on the dark cotton.

"I'll wash it for you," he says.

John takes it gently from Rodney's hand and slides it back onto his wrist. He lifts his hand and trails the damp wristband across the flushed skin of Rodney's cheek.

"No," he says.

It takes Rodney a moment to get it. "Oh," he breathes.

John nods, and he's starting to grin, but then Rodney pulls him down for a kiss and doesn't let him go for a long, long time.


End file.
